Drunken Actions are Sober Fantasies
by Iamaprophetofthelord
Summary: John and Sherlock are a bit tipsy, and it leads somewhere unexpected for them but totally expected for us Warning: Graphic Smut.


**A/N **** so this is my first try at smut so feedback would be very helpful. Hope you enjoy it :)**

**Also, I'd like to thank the tumblr user carhilwenne for being a great beta. **

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Sherlock giggled at the red flush of Johns cheeks. John was just soOOoo drunk. John burst into protest and Sherlock immediately realized he has thought aloud and doubled over in laughter. 'Oh, calm down John, you're completely wasted. Someone obviously can't handle their liquor'. Sherlock said smugly.

'Oh really, Shh-shh-erlock? Then why was that whole sentence ssslurred?' John shot back grinning in triumph at Sherlock's confused frown, for the first time ever he was lost for words.

221B was cluttered with empty bottles they had been given as thanks for solving the last case. Much to Sherlock's better judgement, the bottles grew emptier as the night grew darker. Now, his eyes sparked with the warm glow of alcohol he sorely missed after being 'forbidden' by Mycroft to take any sort of drug. Of course, Sherlock had some in the flat, but Mycroft didn't need to know and it wasn't as if Sherlock was going back to the way he was before. No. That would be very not good.

John fell onto the sofa basking in the glory of making THE Sherlock Holmes speechless. The man in question just narrowed his eyes and pouted his perfectly carved lips, every movement watched closely by the sandy haired man. Unconsciously, John ran his tongue over his bottom lip, something that did not go unnoticed by the taller man who mimicked the action trying to deduce its meaning through the thick clouds in his head.

Buying time, Sherlock swigged from his bottle of vodka. John lounged back on the sofa and shut his eyes, tiredness hitting him suddenly. He lay listening to Sherlock's steady breathes when suddenly the couch dipped under some added weight and John's eyes flew open.

Sherlock was right above him, not touching any of this skin but on all fours looking down. His eyes sparkled with promised mischief as John was shocked into silence. Sherlock flashed a grin before dipping his head down and pressing his lips to the corner of John's. The warm touch woke John from his shock, and made his cock twitch in eagerness. Sherlock lingered on the skin of his friend before pulling his head back slightly. 'Sherlock… What?' John stammered before ignoring any rational thought that came into his mind and turned to meet Sherlock's lips with his own. The taller man tensed for a second before melting into the kiss, sliding the tip of his tongue along John's lips, begging for access which was instantly granted.

Their tongues batted for dominance, and their hands explored the others body hungrily. John had one hand clenched in Sherlock's thick curls whilst the other travelled drown his slender figure to his waist, pulling the purple shirt out of Sherlock's trousers. Sherlock groaned against his lips, sitting up to straddle John he pulled John's cream knitted jumper from him. The taller man grinded his narrow hips against the others bulge and quickly unbuttoned his shirt before being pulled roughly back down to John and assaulted with fierce, sloppy kisses and nips.

Sherlock soon left the lips and worked his way down John's bare chest, sucking and pulling on the skin, earning lustful groans and a large hardness under his own. He teased the skin at John's navel, earning small whimpering pleas from above him. Smirking lightly, Sherlock gently took the hem of John's boxers between his long, pale fingers and worked them down his legs, freeing John's hardness to the cool air of 221B. John moaned, causing an even larger grin to fall on Sherlock's face. His body was perfect but he wanted more, more of John. Sherlock licked his lips, glancing up through his long eyelashes, silently asking for permission from his flatmate which was quickly granted with a soft pant of, 'P-Please Sherlock'.

Needing no more invitation, Sherlock parted his sculpted lips and licked delicately at the pre-cum on the head. Moans echoed around the room, loosing any meaning but the desperate lust and need for each others touch. John bucked up into Sherlock's mouth, begging to be taken in fully. The dark haired man obliged pushing his head down to the base of John's cock skilfully. Vibrating moans emitted from Sherlock, making John buck up, fucking Sherlock's mouth forcefully.

Fingers wove their way into the dark curls on Sherlock's head, pulling him closer without mercy. Sherlock sucked and licked John until his legs were vibrating with the need of release. Sherlock pulled his head up and kissed the inside of John's thigh, 'Come for me, John' he panted, his own erection becoming unbearable against the inside of his own suit trousers.

Sherlock turned the attention of his mouth back on John's hardness sucking gently for a short moment before John came hard into his mouth, shouting out Sherlock's name in ecstasy. John lay, panting hard for a few seconds before wet lips were pressing down his own, allowing him to taste himself. The kiss was fierce; all teeth and consumed by lust.

John suddenly became acutely aware of the hardness pressing through fabric onto his thigh and wanted nothing but to return the favour Sherlock had granted him with. Removing a hand from Sherlock's hair- oh his hair was marvellous- and down his slender figure, John refused to break the kiss. That was, until his hand pushed down between the fabric and skin to grasp Sherlock's length, in which case Sherlock pulled back fractionally with a gasp. The trousers were tight- too tight.

John suddenly pulled both his hands back to his body, pushing hard on Sherlock's bare chest. 'Sit up.' He growled. The command was answered with a frown but followed through all the same. He sat upright, with a questioning glance lighting up his face. John smiled and pulled at the strained zip of the world's only consulting detective's trousers.

Standing above Sherlock, watching him whither in lust was a new experience for John, and one he was defiantly not going to waste. He spread Sherlock's long legs and knelt between him, earning a surprised tone in otherwise horny moan. John didn't hesitate to lick the length of Sherlock's shaft before taking this head fully whilst rubbing his hands on the narrow hips in front of him. John bobbed his head, sucking gently and teasingly before giving into the begging coming from Sherlock and moving his head the entire length. Sherlock came quickly and powerfully calling out the name of the man who was bobbing between his legs.

Exhausted, John climbed up next to his flatmate who was now lying back on the couch with his arms spread wide in welcome. With his face flush with Sherlock's chest and warm, strong arms surrounding him, John pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa. Sherlock kissed Johns head, and together they fell into a drunken sleep, not bothering to clean themselves up.


End file.
